Forgotten
by twilightnite
Summary: So wise so young, they say do never live long...


_-So wise so young, they say do never live long... King Richard III (III.i)- _

**Just a re-write of my original "**Forget Me Not**". Not a short, informal letter, but more a formal….goodbye.  
A future series of letters perhaps? Well, that answer rests with you.**

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_July 31__st__, 1920_

My name is Mary Alice Brandon. I have a loving sweetheart of a sister, a good for nothing mother, and a spineless man for a father. They now live as just the three of them in a small home in a dump of a town by the name of Biloxi, Missouri.

By the time you find this letter, I will either have lost my mind in this solitary confinement, or I am dead. Whichever comes first.

Tell me, dear mystery reader, how would it feel to have someone you love shun you? Not lovers, who come and go as they very well please, but someone much more important. Someone you share blood with. Your own parents.

If one were to look up the term 'freak' –also see 'abomination', 'lunatic', and 'raving she-witch'- in a thesaurus or dictionary, there I would be. I would sit there, forever incased in the wrinkled paper, hollow eyes staring out at you, waiting for the fatal instant in which your true demons and flaws are revealed.

Are you crying yet? Don't worry; this story will only get more heart wrenching as we continue.

If you care to know, _I_ am crying. Not obscene crocodile tears of sorrow, but more so those of anger and white hot fury. (Two like adjectives that should not be written next to one another you say? Well then, that's just too bad for you.)

If you should happen to meet my _loving_ mother, would you care to give a message to her?

Yes?

Alright, let me clear my throat before I utter my last statement to _her_…

_Dearest Mother,_

You see, when I first arrived here I scared out of my wits. I would think of you or your profile and I would cry profusely. Yet now when I think of you, do you know the first thing that comes to mind?

I hope you go to Hell.

Oh? Do you not appreciate being damned? Well, neither do I you bloody hypocrite.

I do not, let me repeat; do _not _appreciate being confined to a small square of a cell for the rest of my days while you are free to frolic in those god forsaken daffodils with Cynthia! I get locked away each and every night, all the while praying that you've made some mistake, and will come back for me when you realize that I was never meant to be here.

Do you even care? How does it feel to you when you know that your eldest daughter is different? The freaky little she-witch that you call me behind my back?

Does it kill you? Because it kills me.

Oh from the day I first discovered this accursed specialty! I have wished it away so many times, and each day my prayer has gone unanswered! Do you think there is a blunt reason? Maybe it's because of you, dear mother.

Maybe it's because from the very moment I was born you despised me. That's why you had Cynthia isn't it? So you could hide away the very shame that was I and trounce around with you new pride and joy bouncing against your side?

(Allow me to let out an exasperated sigh now, dear reader.)

I'm a mistake aren't I?

Well, takes one to know one _Ma_.

You remember those times when I would turn my attention away from you? You always thought I was merely offer in one of my stupid La-La land adventures! Seeking visions of things to come that I had no control over! Did it even occur to you that I may have just been ignoring your inconsiderate squawking?

How would you like to know how I cry myself to sleep many a night because I thought of myself as an abomination? That I tried to shut out the visions, only to later succumb to them when there was no other option? That surely would change your mind, eh?

I have nothing more to say to you. Nothing more than can change the way I feel, what has passed between the two of us.

Good-bye mother.

Alas dear reader, whose name I do not know, what a shame it is to have been banned by my kin. To forever wander these dark corridors, surrounded only by mentally ill citizens and my own wavering voice.

I have not lost all faith yet, let me assure you.

After all, tomorrow is a new day.

Well, for _you_ at least.

--Alice

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_'So what if you could see, the darker side of me?'_

**A few more letters to come dear readers...A few more letters to come...  
-Kate**


End file.
